


Sleep

by ZombieBabs



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s obvious.</p><p>As Nic looks between his friend and producing partner, Alex Reagan, and the professional paranormal skeptic turned conspiracy-nut, Dr. Richard Strand, it’s startlingly obvious.</p><p>More than obvious, really.</p><p>Not one of them has been sleeping.</p><p>...until Alex falls asleep against Strand.</p><p>*Edited 7.26.17</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

It’s obvious.

As Nic looks between his friend and producing partner, Alex Reagan, and the professional paranormal skeptic turned conspiracy-nut, Dr. Richard Strand, it’s startlingly obvious.

More than obvious, really.

Not one of them has been sleeping.

Nic knows about Alex’s insomnia. Even if she hadn’t told him, she can’t hide the almost dazed look she gives him sometimes, when she’s been awake for far too long. Not even with the professionally applied concealer hiding away the black circles under her eyes.

Strand, on the other hand, can only be described as a disaster. Long gone are his usual suit and tie. His hair, normally pushed back with a bit of product, is wild after dragging his hands through it so often. His beard has grown in, but it can’t hide the gauntness of his cheeks. The shadow of it highlights the paleness of his skin. His cool blue eyes are still as intelligent as ever, but they frighten Nic with the tiniest glint of obsession he sees whenever he can catch Strand’s eyes.

Strand makes it a point to avoid Nic’s eyes. As if Strand, too, is frightened by what he knows lingers just under the surface. 

It’s after hours. All reasonable people are at home, tucked away in their beds, dreaming sweet dreams. Reasonable being the operative word. Nic sits on the overstuffed chair across from the sofa Alex and Strand share. After a long, drawn-out meeting, they’ve retreated into the break room for some much-needed coffee.

Alex’s lashes flutter closed as they talk. Her head lolls forward, but only for a fraction of an instant. 

She jerks back to attention, nearly spilling the coffee cradled in her hands all over Strand and herself. 

Strand looks at her, eyebrow cocked in question, but Alex just shakes her head. She sets her mug down on the low table in front of them, where it will no longer be in any danger of spilling.

Alex puts up a good fight, but not even five minutes later, listening to the deep grumble of Strand’s voice, her eyes close.

Nic nearly laughs at the look Strand shoots him, eyes wide with something a little like panic, when Alex falls against his side, leaning into the warmth of him.

Nic drains the last of his coffee. “Let her sleep.”

“Won’t she be more comfortable...somewhere else?”

Strand cranes his neck to look at Alex, who grumbles in her sleep and pulls her legs up into her chest.

“Apparently not,” Nic says.

Nic and Strand talk. Not about the podcast, either Alex’s podcast or Nic’s, but about other things. Music. Film. Travel. Anything, really, to keep their minds off of their sleeplessness. Or the woman tucked into Strand’s side.

Until she whines in her sleep, high-pitched with distress.

Strand freezes.

She whines again. She grips at Strand’s shirt, fingers warping the cotton of his tee over his heart. 

Nic is almost afraid Strand will shrug her off, but instead his hand comes up, not to remove hers, but to cover it with his own. 

“Alex?”

She startles awake with a gasp, her eyes clouded with fear. She blinks against the yellowed break room fluorescents. “Richard?”

“I’m here.”

Alex yawns. She drops her head to rest against him once more. “Promise?”

Strand looks to Nic for guidance.

Nic shrugs.

“For now,” Strand says, eventually. “Yes. I’ll be here.”

Alex sighs as she slips back into sleep. “Oh, okay.”

Nic stares.

Strand frowns. “What?”

“That’s just...different, is all.”

Strand’s eyes narrow. “Different, how?”

Nic mentally backs up before he digs himself into a hole. The last thing he needs is to rile up the good doctor, especially with Alex asleep against him. “It’s just that, she doesn’t really go back to sleep after.” He motions toward her, as if he can encompass all of her insomnia with a wave of his hand. “You know.”

Strand looks at Alex. He’s still holding her hand over his heart even though her fingers have relaxed out of their grip. “How long has she been having nightmares?”

Nic raises his brows. “It’s not just nightmares, man. It’s full-on insomnia. You didn’t know?”

Strand shakes his head. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know if it’s my place--”

“Nic,” Strand says, cutting him off. “Tell me.”

Nic tries to take a drink out of his mug, only to remember too late he’s already finished his coffee. He puts the mug down. He talks, telling Strand of Alex’s growing inability to sleep, about the Ambien and the sleep doctor, about how much the stress of the podcast has been affecting Alex.

The color drains out of Strand’s face.

“You seriously didn’t know?” Nic asks.

“No. She never told me.”

“And you didn’t notice?”

Strand’s eyes fall closed. He looks like he’s in pain. “I didn’t. I should have.”

Nic can’t argue there, but he does the other man a favor by not shoving his nose into it. “She’s always been independent. To a fault, almost. I’m not surprised she hid it from you.”

Strand swallows. “She doesn’t trust me.”

Nic laughs. He can’t help it. “It’s hard to trust someone who’s been keeping secrets. Even if you aren’t outright lying, whatever you’re hiding certainly isn’t helping your situation.”

Strand doesn’t say anything, not to deny it nor to defend himself. Instead, he takes his free hand, and after a moment’s indecision, runs his fingers through Alex’s hair. She murmurs something indistinguishable and snuggles closer to Strand.

He give Strand a moment to think. “I’m going to make some more coffee. It’s going to be a long night, I think. Want some?”

Strand shakes his head. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Alex.

Nic does his best to make as little noise possible as works the coffee machine. As he does so, he watches Strand out of the corner of his eye. The other man speaks softly, but Nic can’t make out any of the words. 

They aren’t meant for him anyway.

He dumps cream and sugar into his coffee and stirs.

He’s about to sit down with his steaming mug, when again he notices the obviousness of the situation. Neither of his companions are going to be able to continue any conversation for the foreseeable future. 

Strand’s head is tilted back against the couch. His eyes are closed. His arm rests across her shoulders, holding her against his side. Their hands still rest above his heart, loose now in sleep, with their fingers laced together.

Nic smiles. He has a sofa in his office. He might as well get some sleep, too.

**Author's Note:**

> *Edited 7.26.17


End file.
